


Holly Jolly Destruction

by ElloMenoP



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElloMenoP/pseuds/ElloMenoP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My gift to madmilks for the TF2 Secret Santa! The team celebrates Christmas the only way they know how, which is by destroying it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holly Jolly Destruction

Engineer set down one last dusty box in the common room, then he clapped his hands together, sending little particles of dust through the air. “That looks like the last of ‘em,” he said to no one in particular.

 

Pyro was already dumping the boxes out, shattering dozens of items. Engineer cringed as he saw ornament after ornament break. “Pyro, maybe let me do that?”

 

“Mpph.” Pyro waved him off and shook out the contents of another box, more decorations crashed to the ground and exploded into hundreds of glass shards, but he found what he was looking for. Pyro excitedly held up a menorah.

 

Spy, who had been watching the scene with indifference, turned to Engineer and asked, “Do you think he’s actually Jewish?”

 

Engineer opened up a box of tangled lights, looked to the Pyro who was already lighting all nine candles, and replied, “I think Pyro likes fire.”

 

Spy shrugged and continued to watch the mysterious mercenary. 

 

“Can I get a little help here?” Engie motioned to the decorations.

 

“No.”

 

The Texan sighed and tried counting to ten in his head. “Spy, I understand that you’re not exactly what one might call a ‘team player’ but I would be appreciative of-”

 

“HEY JERKS!” Scout came striding into the common room with a thunderous look on his face. “Which one a’ya took my baseball!”

 

The three men looked to Scout each with a different expression, Spy with complete apathy, Pyro’s was indeterminable due to his gas mask, and Engineer appeared to be sympathetic but ultimately weary. 

 

“My Joe Dobson autographed ball, who took it!” Scout reiterated, practically spitting fire.

 

“Scout, I’m sure no one took-” Engie had started, but Scout already stalked over to Pyro and began shaking him.

 

“Was it you! Huh? You sick freak, was it you?!” 

 

“Perhaps you misplaced it?” Spy suggested, merely because he wanted to get back to observing Pyro.

 

Scout’s suspicion jumped to the Frenchman. “Sounds like somethin’ the guy who took it would say!”

 

“Scout,” Engie placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I don’t think anyone here would have taken your baseball, and certainly not on purpose. What don’cha try asking Medic? You know how he likes to...improvise with his prosthetic implants maybe he borrowed it by mistake.”

 

Scout frowned and jerked his shoulder out of the Texan’s grasp, he took off in the direction of the infirmary grumbling and stomping. Demoman got an unkind shove from the lad as he passed. 

 

“Oi, what crawled up his arse?” 

 

Engie shook his head, “Somethin’ about a ball.” He picked up a box of decorations and handed it off to the Demoman. “Think you can handle this? I’m going to see to rustlin’ us up a tree.”

 

The Texan left before Demoman could agree or decline, he peered into the box of mostly broken ornaments and makeshift decorations and frowned. He looked to the Pyro sitting happily in front of the burning menorah, and to the Spy sitting intrigued in front of the Pyro, and knew he’d get no help there. 

 

“Soldier!” He shouted loud enough for the whole base to hear. Spy grimaced at the man’s bellow. There was a responding crash, the sound of quick footfalls, and then Soldier appeared in an undershirt and half zipped pants, he was holding his shovel like he would his rifle.

 

“I am here! Do you need backup?!” He jumped Demoman and wrestled him to the ground, covered the man’s body with his own. “I will protect you with my life!”

 

“Agh! Soldier!” Demo wiggled out from under the American. “We’re not under fire, you bloody moron!”

 

Spy rolled his eyes, and missed as Pyro slipped out of the room.

 

Demoman grabbed the box that Engineer had handed him and shoved it into Soldier’s arms. “I’ve got a mission for you-”

 

“Accepted!” Soldier took the box and saluted.

 

Demo couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t you want to know what it is first?”

 

Soldier shook his head, “Negatory, I will blindly accept any orders.”

 

Demo laughed louder, “Okay, mate, well you get started on those decorations,” then he said to himself,“and I’ll get started on the egg nog.”

 

\---

 

The team had never had a Christmas tree make it to Christmas day, it was hard finding a tree that was resilient enough to withstand the team’s _creative decorating_. They had gone through store bought trees, synthetic trees, trees made of antlers, one year all they had was a photograph of a tree. It still didn’t make it.

 

Engineer sighed as he touched a branch, trying to determine the tree’s strength. Maybe a metal tree would work out. Just like that the Engineer began planning a titanium tree, he took over a sales associate’s workstation and drew out some rough blueprints. By the time he was ready to head back to the base, he had stripped a local’s truck of metal, and had to pay off the police, but he had a shiny metal tree that was sure to endure his team mates. 

 

\---

 

“What in sam hill is going on in here!” Engineer didn’t know why he expected better of his team mates. He should have know that leaving Demoman in charge would lead to the mess in front of him. The walls had scorch marks all over, doorways were in pieces, dry wall and plaster chunks littered their common room and many of the halls. 

 

Scout was cracking up, and Soldier was trying to cover up his laughter.

 

“Whaaa?” Demoman slurred, and pointed his glass of nog at the Texan. “We decorated!”

 

“No you didn’t, y’all just destroyed the base!” 

 

Demoman peered around the room and at all the destruction, he burst out laughing. “Soldier got a little confused.”

 

Scout stopped braying long enough to chime in, “Yeah, Sargent Sanity thought mistletoe meant missiles and toes.”

 

Engineer looked up and saw two missiles duct taped to the door way with a string of bloody severed toes around them. “I’m not even gonna ask where you got the toes, but what I am gonna ask is that you take all this down-”

 

Engineer’s head exploded into a million bits, spraying the other three laughing men in blood and brains. Heavy had entered at the sound of the explosion and shared in the laughter once Soldier showed him the missiles and remote charges Demoman had rigged.

 

Heavy grabbed one and pointed it at another ‘missile toe’ decoration, the one closest to Engineer’s metal tree. “This is good fun,” the large man stated, and pressed the button. The missiles exploded and so did the tree, sending sharp bits of shrapnel all over the room. The bits sliced and killed all four laughing men.

 

In the Respawn room Engie huffed and brushed imaginary bone bits off his shoulder. He was about to stalk back into the common room and demand those children to clean up and correctly re-decorate, but then they appeared in the room with them. Engie looked to the four, confused.

 

Demo nudged Scout forward, and the boy scratched the back of his neck clearly not wanting to be their spokesperson. “Uhh, that tree you made? It’s kinda gone.”

 

Engineer wanted to shout, to scream to the high heavens, he wanted to break something. He reached into his locker and pulled out his shotgun and started loading shells into it. He smiled widely at his team mates.

 

Heavy foresaw the bloodshed and quickly excused himself. “Heavy will go get new tree, big strong tree.”

 

The other three men merely shuffled nervously around each other, trying to get to the exit before Engineer took aim. They didn’t, and Engie worked out the majority of his holiday frustrations.

 

\---

 

Spy had the whole team lined up in the mall parking lot and paced back and forth in front of them like a general before his army. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to them. “I have in my hands the wish lists of every member of our little team,” he passed out a slip of paper to each man, “please do not deviate from them. For example, I have asked for nothing but cigarettes, if you follow your so called ‘tasteful’ instincts and buy me anything other than cigarettes, that makes your own presents fair game.”

 

Scout jumped out of line and stood by Spy with an accusatory finger pointed at the team. “Yeah, and whoever stole my baseball can ignore my wish list and GIVE ME BACK MY AUTOGRAPHED JOE DOBSON BALL!” 

 

Spy pushed Scout back in line. “Wonderful, Scout, thank you.” Scout crossed his arms and pouted, and Spy ignored him. “This is going to be one of our most difficult missions, but we are trained mercenaries and I am certain that we can accomplish our goals. Demoman,” the Scottish man straightened up at the sudden call of his name, “how sober are you?”

 

The man looked sheepishly at Spy. “Well, I did have breakfast.”

 

“So you are piss drunk, excellent,” Spy sighed. “Engineer, please keep Demoman from driving the children’s train, he cannot afford another DUI.”

 

“Sure thing, Spy.”

 

“Medic?” Spy rounded on the doctor. “This is a mall, not a black market. You cannot buy organs here.”

 

“I don’t have to buy them, I can steal them,” Medic disagreed.

 

“Please don’t. And Sniper-” Spy looked around. “Where is the bushman?” He spun around and found Sniper sitting in the car smoking a cigarette. “Won’t you be joining us?”

 

Sniper didn’t even look at the Spy. “Nah.” 

 

The whole team groaned and complained. “Sniper!” “You gotta buy us presents, too!” “I’m not accepting your shitty gifts again!”

 

Engineer quickly quelled the group. “Sniper, I think what we’re tryin’ to say here, is that we understand you put a lot of time and effort in your hand knitted scarves and mittens, but we hate them. They’re ugly and they don’t even keep us warm. Please _buy us_ something made on an assembly line this year.”

 

The Texan might as well have been speaking to a brick wall. The Sniper exhaled, and replied, “No, I’m not wasting money on you lot. I’m waiting in the car.” Then he slammed the door shut.

 

The others groaned, and Spy rubbed his temples. “Never mind him.” He garnered their attention, and pushed Scout back into the line up. “We have more important things to worry about. By my careful observations and profiling of our team I believe we have a minimum of one hour to do our shopping before most of us have been forcibly removed and banned for life. So gentlemen, _shop carefully_.”

 

They started to disperse.

 

“Oh, and Soldier,” Spy called after them “Given your proclivity for becoming a public menace you actually only have twenty minutes before you endanger yourself and others.”

 

Soldier puffed up at the misinterpreted insult, he gave the Frenchman a thumbs up. “I’ll do it in ten!”

 

Spy sighed, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

True to Spy’s calculations, the team had barely made it out of the mall before the angry mob. Scout had accumulated three more sexual harassment charges, Demoman had been drunkly swimming in the fountain, Engineer dismantled the malls’ elevators and had been in the middle of replacing them with teleporters before he was asked to leave. Soldier was naked and covered in honey. They were suddenly very thankful that Sniper had stayed behind, he made a pretty good getaway driver. 

 

\---

 

“What does it matter that we don’t got presents! We don’t got a tree to put ‘em under anyway!” Scout made his point, and continued to defend his behavior at the mall.

 

“I fix this, I will get tree,” Heavy promised, and exited their base in favor of the cold tundra full of pine trees.

 

“I don’t know why you’re all complaining, I got my shopping done,” Medic shrugged, and wiped his bloody hands on his lab coat, leaving behind even more red stains.

 

“Doc, I swear if you try to give me chimp lungs again I will knock your head off and put it in that fridge next to the Spy’s,” Scout threatened.

 

The doctor frowned and corrected, “They are baboon lungs not chimpanzee, those would be incompatible.”

 

“But somehow baboon parts aren’t,” Spy muttered, and left his idiot team mates. 

 

The nine men settled down, retreating to their own rooms to wrap whatever gifts they had managed to buy. It was by far the quietest few hours the base had seen since the holiday season began. A few had even gathered in the common room and shared spiked hot chocolate, sipping on their mugs while they watched public access Christmas specials on the television.

 

It was almost picturesque, Medic, Scout, Demo, and Pyro were all enjoying the evening up until the door blew open, a biting cold wind swirled its way in, blowing out the menorah candles Pyro had lit. 

 

Heavy trudged in out of the cold, he was encrusted with frost, his cheeks and nose were red, and every step he took further into the base left a powdering of snow behind. He was dragging a gigantic Douglas Fir behind him, it was at least fourteen feet tall.

 

“Jeez Heavy, that’s a friggin’ tree!” Scout exclaimed.

 

“Yes, it is a tree,” Heavy agreed.

 

“But it’s like, a gigantic tree,” Scout tried to clarify his statement.

 

“Yes, big tree.”

 

“It’s ain’t gonna fit.” 

 

“I will make fit.” Heavy ended the conversation by dragging the tree past the onlookers and started to arrange the enormous pine. It didn’t matter how determined the giant was, the tree wasn't going to fit. Every time Heavy stood the tree on its stump the upper half would scrape along the ceiling, and bend at a ninety degree angle so the top hung over the room.

 

Heavy was getting more and more frustrated, he was roaring and grabbing at the tree, sprinkling pine needles everywhere. It didn’t help that Scout was flittering around him with smart comments like, “Told ya it wouldn’t fit,” or, “What were you compensating for somethin’? Heh, you got a small dick?” or, “Even if you do get it up Pyro’s probably gonna burn it down,” or, “So you gotta small dick or what?”

 

Heavy growled and grabbed Scout by the neck, the skinny boy’s neck fit perfectly in Heavy’s giant hands. He squeezed and watched as the runner’s face turned blue and finally there was a cracking sound as he snapped the bone. Heavy huffed and dropped the body to the floor. “Tiny annoying man.”

 

“Oi, Heavy,” Demoman slurred. “I know how we can make your tree fit.” The Scotsman smirked and tried to stand up, failed but managed to recover with minimal embarrassment. 

 

Heavy arched an inquisitive brow and stepped aside to let the Demoman work.

 

\---

 

Every holiday that the team ever celebrated involved explosions, as a matter of fact most days in general involved explosions, but the explosion that just rocked the base was larger than normal. Too large. Engineer tore out of his workshop and got to the common room as the dust was settling.

 

“What did I tell you about usin’ live rounds as decorations - oh for fuck’s sake!” Engineer immediately turned around and strode back out of the common room. “I’m not dealing with this!”

 

Demoman and Heavy saw no problem with their solution, the tree now fit, sure it was sticking out of a colossal hole in the side of the base, but it fit. 

 

After Engineer calmed down, and after nearly every team mate complained about the cold seeping in through the hole, he and Soldier set about fixing it. It ended up being an odd extension onto the base, a mismatch of wooden planks hammered around the upper half of the giant pine to keep it housed and visible. The only issue left was decorating the tree.

 

“You can’t put that there!” Scout ripped a candle out of Pyro’s hands.

 

“Mmph! Mphhh mmmpfft!” Pyro made a grab for his candle and the two began fighting over it.

 

“You don’t put candles on a Christmas tree! That’s why we got lights!”

 

“Mpppph! Mmmphh!”

 

“Shut up, what do you know about Christmas!”

 

“Mmmph mmp!”

 

The two fought back and forth getting increasingly violent, and increasingly destructive. Medic sat on the couch, his irritation quickly matching the boys’ aggression. He stood up and shouted, “Enough dummkopfs!” He grabbed at the decorations on the tree and began taking them down.

 

“What! You can’t do that! You Naz-” Scout immediately snapped his mouth shut, Medic looked homicidal. He backtracked, “You can’t take the tree down!”

 

“I am not taking the tree down, stupid. We are each going to have our own portions to decorate however we like,” Medic explained, and was shocked at how quickly Scout responded.

 

“I call the top!” He shouted. The runner smirked to himself, he got the best part of the tree, the part everyone cared about and it was all his.

 

\---

 

“Your part o’ the tree is lookin’ real good lad,” Demoman teased, and Scout grumbled. “You gonna put a star up there, or an angel?”

 

“Mmmph! Mppph!” Pyro laughed along with Demo and the others. Scout may have chosen the most coveted part of the tree, but it was also the most difficult to reach. The tree’s size was well beyond the reach of their ladders, and Scout had tried to climb the tree a dozen times, falling flat on his face each try. In a last ditch effort he tried climbing onto Sniper’s shoulders.

 

“Get off, you mongrel!” Sniper danced around the common room as Scout latched onto his back trying to climb up the taller man.

 

“Just hold still! Let me stand on your shoulders!” 

 

“No, get down! Wanker!” Sniper threw the boy off of him and retreated to the kitchen.

 

Demoman, Pyro, Medic, Spy, and Engineer were all in hysterics.

 

“Shut up!” Scout huffed. “It’s not like your parts are any better!”

 

There was some validity to Scout’s rebuttal. The tree looked like a layer cake gone bad, it was an odd jumble of different tastes. Heavy had taken the bottom portion and started dressing the tree with strings of popcorn, but he ate the majority of it and left bare strings around the tree. 

 

Engineer’s layer was mostly colored electrical wires with nuts and bolts stuck onto the ends of the branches. Medic’s was sparsely decorated, the only visible color was the blood stains he left behind on the pine needles. Archimedes and the other doves took to roosting in his portion of the tree. Engineer kept making jokes about turtle doves.

 

Sniper’s part of the tree had zero imagination, a few round ornaments of red and green, a string of garland and a few lights. Demoman’s was oddly immaculate. Each glass ornament was meticulously placed, there was the perfect balance of lights and garland, and each branch was lightly frosted with sodium azide to make the appearance of snow. The only imperfection was that everything was sticky with alcohol.

 

Spy’s section was entirely blank, he claimed he did not care about silly holiday traditions. Though, Soldier caught him adjusting everyone else’s parts, making the tree more symmetrical and appealing. Pyro’s bit was entirely decked out in candles, everyone kept blowing them out, telling him that they were a fire hazard. Pyro liked relighting them. Soldier’s portion was red, white, and blue, and filled with grenades.

 

“Soldier, what did I tell you about using live grenades?” Engineer chastised.

 

Solider looked puzzled for a moment, then he clapped the Texan on the back and replied, “Engie, the grenades aren’t alive!” Then he leaned in close and whispered, “Why have they started talking to you too?”

 

Then there was Scout’s section at the top, completely bare. Scout felt like the tree was mocking him. 

 

“Jus’ throw in the towel already,” Demoman mumbled around his egg nog. “You’re never gonna get up there.”

 

Then it hit Scout. “Say that again!”

 

“Huh?” Demo arched a brow. “Say what?”

 

“What you just said!”

 

“Give up?”

 

“No the other thing?”

 

Demo waved a dismissive hand at the runner. “Agh, I don’t remember what I jus’ said I’ve been drinkin’ since noon.”

 

“Oh, whatever,” Scout dropped it. No matter, he still had the inspiration, he grabbed a number of round ornaments, took a pitching stance and lobbed them at the tree top. Some stayed in place, crooked but still up there, a few fell down between the branches, and some even managed to hang on by their hooks. “How’s that for fuckin’ decorated!”

 

“It looks awful,” Spy criticized. 

 

“But it’s decorated.” Scout puffed out his chest. “Did I ever tell you guys how I was an all-star pitcher in high school, pitched a no hitter my freshmen year-”

 

Demoman shoved a glass of egg nog at the boy. “Oh, pipe down you windbag!”

 

\---

 

Cooking around the base was never a joy, the team didn’t have anyone with a knack for cooking. They often had to chose the one least likely to poison everybody. Medic had offered to cook Christmas Eve dinner, and that put everyone on edge, his meals had a tendency to contain sedatives or stray specimen. 

 

Scout had taken it upon himself to investigate the state of dinner, make sure everything was edible and scalpel free. He was surprised to find the kitchen filled with delicious dishes and mouthwatering desserts. It looked way better than any Christmas dinner they ever had. Though, they only appeared that way and he’d have to taste them to make sure...

 

Scout crept into the kitchen as silently as possible and reached out a finger to swipe a bit of whipped cream off a chocolate pie.

 

“ _NYET_!” Heavy slapped Scout’s hand down.

 

“Ow! Jeez, Heavy!” Scout nursed his hurt hand.

 

“Are you leetle rat sneaking around kitchen? Trying to steal food?” Heavy pointed a spoonful of mashed potatoes at the runner like he would a knife.

 

“What? No,” Scout lied. “I’m just...looking for my baseball.” He grabbed a nearby bag of onions and pretended to look through them.

 

Medic frowned at the Scout. “You’re looking for your ball in a bag of onions?”

 

“They’re both round and white, migh’a got mixed up with ‘em.”

 

Medic rolled his eyes and turned back to his turkey. “My balls are also round and white are you going to unzip my pants next?”

 

Scout snorted with laughter, he was always caught off-guard by Medic’s humorous side. “Medic, you’re gross. But seriously have you guys seen my ball? The autographed one?”

 

“For the millionth time, Scout, no.” Medic focused on the turkey in front of him.

 

Scout waited for Heavy to focus on something as well then he reached for the chocolate pie once more.

 

“ _Nyet_!” Heavy quickly grabbed the Scout under his arms and hoisted him away from the food. “That is for after supper!” 

 

“Let me just have a taste!”

 

“No.”

 

“At least let me lick the spoon!”

 

“No.” Heavy threw the Scout out of the kitchen. 

 

Medic nodded his approval. “Now we can get back to work.” He leaned over the turkey and continued stitching up its front.”

 

“Doktor, there are better ways of stuffing turkey,” Heavy pointed out.

 

“Oh sure, sure, but this is more... _clinical_. Hand me that IV.” 

 

Heavy did as he was asked. “But why does turkey need IV? Bird is already dead.”

 

“Not for long, _mein_ _freund_ , not for long.” 

 

They ended up ordering out.

 

\---

 

Sniper was irritated beyond belief. It was Christmas Eve in America, but in Australia it was Christmas day, and all he wanted to do was wish his Mum a Merry Smissmas, but every time he went to the phone it was taken. 

 

“No, Mum, I told you it’s Christmas! We don’t work on Christmas!” Demoman sighed into the receiver. “Yes, I know...yeah, Dad would’ve been working I know! Mum...Mum, I just wanted to tell you Happy Christmas is all.”

 

Sniper had waited patiently by the phone for Demoman to stop arguing with his mother. That turned out to be longer than expected, but eventually the Scotsman hung up and flashed the Sniper a smile, “Mums, right?”

 

The second he put the receiver down Scout zipped in and picked it up.

 

“Hold on, wanker!” Sniper went to stop him, but Scout had already dialed home and waved the marksman off. 

 

Sniper had to wait through Scout’s ridiculously long phone call. He was on with his Ma for _hours_ , then he had to talk to each brother, all seven of them! And then he went on and on with his nieces and nephews, promising them implausible Christmas gifts. Sniper finally gave up and sat out the remainder of the call in the common room with the others.

 

By the time Scout hung up and told the Sniper, “All yours,” he had been beaten to the phone once again. This time by Pyro. The mysterious mercenary held the phone to his ear and pressed button after button, too many buttons to be a phone number. Once Sniper appeared the Pyro stared at him.

 

“Uh, you almost done there, mate?” 

 

The Pyro’s blank stare made Sniper uneasy. 

 

“I’ll come back then?”

 

Pyro held out the phone to him.

 

“Okay, thanks.” Sniper accepted the phone warily. The Pyro did not move from his spot next to the phone, forcing the Sniper to crowd around him, “You just gonna stay there then?”

 

Pyro silently left, and Sniper muttered, “Bloody weirdo.” 

 

He pressed the receiver down to get a fresh dial tone and went to finally call his Mum. The phone was snatched from his hand and he was shoved aside. “Aggh, bloody hell!”

 

“Out of the way, bushman!” 

 

“Spy! Get off! It’s my turn to use the phone!”

 

“No.” Spy was inspecting the phone, placing some sort of contraption onto it. “Didn’t you notice?”

 

“Notice what?”

 

“Pyro was using the phone.”

 

“So? He was just playing with the buttons.”

 

“Are you stupid!” Spy snapped. “He wasn’t playing! That was morse code, he was talking to someone!”

 

Sniper groaned. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Just let me call me Mum already!”

 

“No, I have to trace the call.”

 

The Australian sighed but gave in. He leaned against the wall, tipped his hat over his eyes and prepared to wait, he might as well get a little nap in.

 

\---

 

“Why you ask this of Heavy?” The Russian’s voice was full of anger.

 

Engineer stumbled for a response. “I just thought it’d be a nice gesture, get everyone into the Christmas spirit.”

 

“But why Heavy?” He grabbed at the offending red cloth.

 

“I...well, you are...” Engie trailed off.

 

“Because Heavy is fat? Is why you ask this?!”

 

Engineer paled and shook his head. “No! Not at all!”

 

“Santa is fat and jolly, Heavy is none of these things!”

 

“No, you’re right, you’re not fat!” Engie quickly tried to calm the man down. “Maybe a little big boned...”

 

Heavy roared, “Engineer is one who is fat!” He threw the Santa costume down and stomped out of the kitchen.

 

“Don’t worry, Engie,” Soldier patted the Texan’s shoulder. “I’ll be old St.Nick!” Then he stretched the Santa hat over his helmet, misshaping the material. He looked ridiculous. Pyro would end up taking the red coat and pretending that each team mate was a reindeer. Scout took the fake beard and had fun putting it on until Spy commented, “Scout, you finally have facial you didn’t have to grow yourself.”

 

All in all, the team got into their own brand of the holiday spirit.

 

\---

 

“It’s midnight let’s open presents!” Scout gleefully grabbed at a wrapped gift.

 

Soldier ripped the box out of Scout’s hands. “Negatory, private! It is not Christmas yet!”

 

“I just said it was after midnight, so it’s technically Christmas.”

 

“Scout, it ain’t Christmas, can’t you just enjoy the night?” Engineer pleaded.

 

“No.” Scout tried to grab the gift back from Soldier. “Pyro’s opening his presents!” 

 

The team looked to Pyro, he was beneath the tree unwrapping, not just his presents, but every box he got his hands on.

 

“Just let him open a bloody present,” Demo gave in, and started to hand out the gifts.

 

Scout cheered and tore into his gifts. The others accepted their gifts with more reservation, neatly opening them and thanking one another. Or more appropriately, criticizing the gift giver.

 

“Oh, Sniper, you should’t have.” Spy held up and knitted scarf. “Really, I specifically asked you not to.” He handed off the scarf to Pyro, who was collecting and wearing every one of Sniper’s gifts.

 

Medic unwrapped the newspaper around Scout’s gift. “Oh wonderful,” his voice was full of contempt. “A framed photo of you.”

 

Scout missed the sarcasm, and replied, “Yeah, aren’t they great! I mean not as good as last year’s ‘cause I’m not shirtless, but I’m still flexing. Got ‘em for all of you.” He clapped Medic on the back, and the team handed off their photos of Scout to Pyro, who excitedly got ready to burn them.

 

“This is my gift to all of you!” Soldier eagerly walked to the middle of the room, holding a single small box. 

 

“One little box for all?” Heavy asked.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Heavy does not want to share, Heavy leave Russia so he does not have to share,” Heavy muttered to Demoman. The Scotsman shrugged in reply.

 

Soldier dropped the box to the ground and an electric hair clipper fell out. “I will give you all sensible haircuts!”

 

Spy closed his eyes and hoped that when he opened them he’d be anywhere but here. It didn’t work. “Well, at least this is better than the Christmas of ’69.”

 

“Medic I am starting with you!” Soldier pointed to the doctor and went to plug his clippers in.

 

Scout was unwrapping his gift from Sniper, the only one that wasn’t a scarf. When he took the lid off of the tiny box he was pleased for a split second, his gift was a bracelet, it was a leather band with the red stitching from a baseball tastefully converted into wearable jewelry. Then his joy was replaced by rage once he realized.

 

“Where’d you get this?!” Scout spun around to face the marksman.

 

“Made it,” he grunted.

 

“Yeah, but where’d you get the ball from?!”

 

“Your room.”

 

“My room-” Scout was experiencing the calm before the storm, then he snapped. “MY AUTOGRAPHED JOE DOBSON BALL! YOU CUT UP MY AUTOGRAPHED JOE DOBSON BALL!” He lunged at Sniper, intending to kill the marksman as retribution.

 

The two fought perilously close to Pyro’s menorah, which still had all nine candles burning. Engineer was trying to keep Pyro from lighting more candles on the tree. 

 

“Pyro, you gotta stop that, you’re gonna burn the whole base down.”

 

Demoman offered Heavy a cracker, the Russian accepted it with a confused look.

 

“How does this work?”

 

“You pull it and it explodes.”

 

“Explode? A big explosion?”

 

“Nah,” Demo assured him. “Well, I don’t know, I was pretty drunk when I made them, but they should be all right.”

 

Heavy and Demo each held an end to the cracker and prepared to pull it apart. Soldier was trying to plug his clippers into an overstuff electrical socket, Medic warned him not to.

 

“Soldier, you are going to short circuit the base, or worse.”

 

“You will accept my Christmas present whether you like it or not!”

 

Spy sat back to watch the ensuing mayhem with a cigarette and indifference. In about thirty seconds there would be an explosion, and a fire with an indeterminable source. The whole team would have to vacate their base and watch it burn down to the ground while they stood outside in the freezing cold. They’d end up spending Christmas crammed into Sniper’s camper van like sardines.

 

 

 


End file.
